She giggled and poked a fingertip into the corner of his smirk. The grin on her own lips became soft, loving, a newer version of the affectionately puppy-dog sort of smile she used to give him when she was younger. "I've been... really crazy about you for a long time now, Dick," she told him, running a hand through his hair. "Just waiting for you to catch up," she teased, her grin becoming lopsided.

She gasped again and closed her eyes, letting the sensation build and build, her cheeks growing rosier and little jolts traveling further south than she'd felt in a while. Her back arced off of the mattress as his teeth grazed her throbbing nipple, both of them dusky from his attention, bruised from his loving.

She cupped his jaw and, breathless, urged his mouth to hers again. "I think..." she said in small puffs against his lips as she kissed him, "I think I'm ready, Dick. Really, really ready."